


i would devour where others merely nibbled

by unityManipulator



Series: I don't know what to call it but it's a minecraft roleplay [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Original Work
Genre: EDWARD DON'T READ THIS ONE EITHER, M/M, Macro/Micro, Soft Vore, Verbal Humiliation, Vore, sorry minecraft fandom (again), this one is a direct sequel to the first one, uhhhh i feel like i did all my humorous rambling in the tags of the first one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unityManipulator/pseuds/unityManipulator
Summary: Solomon the alchemist ruins more potions, this time intentionally.





	i would devour where others merely nibbled

**Author's Note:**

> yeah if you don't know these characters go back to read the first one cause this is a direct sequel and it won't make nearly as much sense if you don't have that context.
> 
> all the important stuff still applies. don't vore people without consent, put this on my callout, love y'all, and have fun

The potion stand bubbles happily, and Solomon checks his clock as the final drops fall into the glass bottle below.

It was fairly simple, since he already had a base of what was supposed to happen. Working with different variables in brewing his potions of strength was repetitive, but he was fairly sure that he’d managed to isolate the way he’d ruined that first potion days earlier (some residual brine from a fermented spider eye, he notes, his own fault for not cleaning the brewing stand properly.)

He raised the bottle to the light, examining how the liquid within sloshed from side to side as he swirled it gently. The color was slightly darker, he noted, something that could only be noticed if you knew what to look for.

Setting another three bottles into the stand, he wrapped a red string around the neck of the bottle before tying it and corking it off. He crossed the room to a chest, emptying his pack and his pockets before removing his armor, packing everything neatly into the chest as his potions finished brewing.

Wrapping another red string around the bottle necks, he packed the new three into the chest with his armor before slipping the fourth into his pocket.

He makes his way to the mailbox easily, but then finds himself at a loss as to which way to go next. He knows which way his house is, of course, but he doesn’t definitively know which way the twins’ house is. Shrugging, he makes his way into the forest towards their old house, figuring he can work it out from there. It’s not long before he sees the old oak planks, and as he crosses the river, the peaks of the mountains become visible. He’s on the right track, he thinks, so he lets his pace quicken, his fingers brushing against the smooth glass of the bottle in his pocket.

When he sees the trees turn to spruce, he recognizes the landscape from the last time he was here. (A shiver runs down his spine as his mind supplies the memory of what _exactly_ happened the last time, and he unconsciously licks his lips even as his fingers tighten around the neck of the potion bottle.)

He finds the house easily, cresting the hill and seeing chickens in a pen alongside a small field of wheat. A quick glance into the window confirms that it’s empty, and the sun is barely overhead. An entryway is carved into the stone of the cliff face near the house, and Solomon takes a breath before he steps down the first step of many into the mine.

The steps are rough and unfinished, but he makes it down easily before finding the first tunnels of the mine and he pauses before he chooses a tunnel at random.

The tunnel ends up being empty, and he makes his way back to the main branch of the mine and turns to the next tunnel only to bump into another person. He stumbles, catching himself against the wall before looking up and realizing that he’s staring directly at Tynan’s chest.

Tynan flinches, taking a careful step back as his fingers tighten around his pickaxe.

“I’m not here to fight.” The words tumble out, a frantic breath more than an actual spoken sentence, and Solomon raises his hands to chest height before continuing. “I… fuck, this is weird to say, but… I was thinking about the last time we… were together.”

The pickaxe lowers slightly, and Solomon takes it as an opportunity to ramble on. “You remember, right? I fucked up that potion, you abducted me, we, uh… well, you know. Things happened, I mean-”

“I ate you.”

Solomon stops at that, shocked at Tynan’s matter-of-fact approach to voicing their previous interaction. He glanced upwards, his hands falling to his sides, as the other man continued.

“I fucking ate you… and I really don’t know how to feel about that fact.”

Solomon blushes, his hand making its way into his pocket and brushing against the potion bottle, as he murmurs “we could try it again.” Pulling the bottle out, he swirled it gently, watching how Tynan’s eyes stayed firmly fixed on the potion within. “I worked out how I ruined the potion the first time, and… I want to do it again.”

“Oh my gods, you actually fucking enjoyed it.” Tynan slumps against the wall of the mine, his helmet bumping gently against the stone as he sits on the rough ground. “Do you realize how many nights I lost sleep wondering what the _fuck_ actually went on? Whether I was _imagining_ the way you were squirming around in there?” He laughed weakly, bringing his hand to his forehead. “I didn’t know if you _actually_ liked it or if I was completely misinterpreting and I just… what the _fuck?"_

Solomon shrugged, uncorking the corrupted potion as he made the final few steps toward Tynan and crouched in front of him. “How’s this for an answer,” he grumbled, “I think it’s pretty fucking obvious.” Raising the bottle to his lips, he drinks, letting the thick potion spill down his throat. As drops of the liquid spill from his lips and down his chin, he feels the potion begin to take effect, and he quickly finishes the bottle before letting the glass fall to the ground.

He shrinks quickly, and he shivers as he feels Tynan’s eyes on him. Sauntering forward, he looks up before pulling off his tunic and pants. “This potion doesn’t wear off until I die, you know… so I can wait until you actually get to it and do what I want.”

Tynan sighs, shaking his head slightly before reaching down and grabbing Solomon around the waist. Brushing his thumb upwards gets a shiver from the other man, and he takes the opportunity to teasingly drag his finger across Solomon’s ribs before lifting him to his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he brushes his tongue across Solomon’s neck, feeling the muscles shift as he adjusts his grip to let Solomon sit comfortably on his hand.

When he looks down, Solomon is already working his fingers between his legs, and as Tynan pauses he looks upwards and snaps “well? What are you waiting for?”

“Okay,” Tynan replies flatly, lifting his hand to his mouth. He fits his mouth around Solomon’s legs, leaving his torso out of his mouth before pulling his hand back. Brushing his tongue up the back of Solomon’s thigh, he sighs at the shiver he gets in response before happily repeating the movement.

Solomon grumbles, squirming backwards as far as he can, but he’s held firmly in place by Tynan’s lips and tongue.

“Are you going to actually let me in, or just hold me like this?” Fighting to work his hand through Tynan’s lips does nothing, and Solomon mutters “fucking asshole” before he feels Tynan’s tongue slip between his legs, the tip flicking back and forth in short, delicate licks. He whines, feeling his face heat up as he screws his eyes shut and does his best to match the movement of the muscle.

He’s lost track of time (and if the shaking of his legs and his soft panting was any indication, it had been a _very_ long time) when Tynan stops, carving out a small recess from the wall of the mine shaft before setting down a torch, a couple of furnaces, and the same worn bed with the blue blanket.

He’s spat gently onto the pillow of the bed before Tynan crosses the room to add ore and coal to the furnaces, and he groans at the loss of stimulation even as he flops back and tries to catch his breath. When Tynan returns to the bed, he’s reminded of just how big the difference between them _is_ as the pad of Tynan’s thumb presses against his chest, pushing him into the pillow.

Squirming at the contact, Solomon jumps as Tynan’s _fucking_ tongue grazes across his stomach, working its way downward to lavish kitten-licks across his clit. He _whines_ at that, digging his fingers into the pillowcase, and Tynan lets out a breathy laugh as he continues.

Thrusting into his hand, Tynan lets out a low moan before leaning back and looking up at Solomon, eyes downturned even as he does. “I… didn’t… hate it, when you um… talked down on me? The last time, I mean.”

Solomon snorted, shifting against Tynan’s thumb as he did. “You want me to insult you? Want me to remind you how disgusting you are for enjoying that?”

Bringing his mouth back between Solomon’s legs, Tynan keeps his hips moving as he nods slightly. Solomon grins, running his hand across the rough surface of the thumb holding him down before continuing.

“It really _is_ disgusting. You’re so desperate for this, aren’t you? You practically begged me for this. Begging me to treat you like trash, like you _deserve,_ yet you still want to get off on this? You still want to fuck yourself as I tell you exactly what you’re worth?”

“Solomon, I- fuck-”

“Really? That turned you on so much, you’re already about to come? Or were you practically hard all day, mining as you thought about the way I was in your mouth? I know you enjoyed eating me last time, but maybe I don’t want to give you that privilege. Maybe I want to keep you wound up, begging for me, before I walk out and find a pit of lava to jump into. You certainly don’t deserve it.”

The pressure of Tynan’s thumb releases as he grabs at the pillowcase beside Solomon, and he arches his back and _moans_ lewdly as he comes. He’s panting as he comes down, and he looks up to see Solomon staring at him expectantly.

“Well?”

“You want me to fucking eat you? Fine.” Tynan moves inhumanly fast, and Solomon only needs to blink before he’s caught in a hand and being lifted to Tynan’s mouth. By the time he regains his bearings, he feels a suffocating pressure around his shoulders, and he squirms involuntarily as he’s pushed along Tynan’s esophagus, falling face-first into the stomach without managing to catch himself.

He’s crying out quietly in the confined space within the next minute, rocking desperately against his hand and smiling to himself as he remembers the three other potions in his chest at home.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is osteoclastics.tumblr.com come either call me the Fuck out or come scream about vore with me


End file.
